[127 Days Left to Live]
It had been seven long days since Kendrick walked out of Cassius' office, jaw clenched and fists tight, his mind spinning with unanswered questions. Seven days of frustration, of sleepless nights, of digging deeper into a pit that seemed to swallow every clue whole.
And now, he was staring at an empty folder on his screen. Again.
"Damn it!" he growled, slamming his fist on the table. His coffee mug trembled and tilted dangerously before he caught it just in time. He sighed, pressing his palm over his eyes.
Gone. Everything about Barmon. Gone.
Not a single shred left. No photos, no records, not even an old address. As if Barmon never existed. As if he was a ghost made of smoke, erased with precision.
